


The Wait

by thosefarplaces



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 21:12:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5680945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thosefarplaces/pseuds/thosefarplaces
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A day in the life of no one. Before she meets BB-8.</p><p>Part of a "52 short stories in 52 weeks" challenge - the prompt for this one was "a new beginning".</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wait

She used to count the lines on the wall as she fell asleep. The higher the number got, she told herself, the better. That meant they _had_ to come back soon. In the early days after she’d moved into the wrecked AT-AT, she’d needed that comfort more than ever.

Now she marked a new one each evening out of habit. She hadn’t counted the lines since…well, without counting them, she wasn’t sure how long it’d been. Long enough. Before the thin season last year, even before the time Teedo had tried to break into her home, thinking it was abandoned. He’d learned his lesson. Sometimes, scratching a new mark on the wall, she thought they all looked like “I”s. Each one a statement. _I’m still here._

On the good days, that made her smile.

She jammed one end of her spear under the edge of the hatch and strained against the other end. The hatch gave with a sudden crack, nearly sending her sprawling down the side. A blast of cool air washed over her for a split second, then faded as the hungry desert air swarmed in. She pulled her goggles on, grinning. Cold air meant a closed compartment. Rooms built to keep out the vacuum of space could do a good job keeping out the heat, as long as they were intact - not like the foresection compartment she’d crawled into through a shattered window, only to come scrambling out again when a beam caved in on her. And as long as no other scavenger had gotten there first.

She double-checked the rope around her waist. Gave the anchoring knot a firm tug. Then she dove inside.

She sank hand over hand into the belly of a small cargo hauler. Through the tint of her low-light goggles, everything was awash in ghostly green shadows. Her breaths came slow and even. Around her, the ship lay silent. Only her rope creaked as she began to swing towards the nearest wall. _It’s been dead a long time._

She skirted along walls that were at all the wrong angles, rappelled down hallways that other people had once walked on, stopping to investigate torn plating where power lines lay bare, their components exposed. She’d never felt bad about taking from these ships - especially not the Empire ones. They’d never fly again. They had no use for the resistors she pulled from their circuits, or the microprocessors from dusty control panels, while she had every use for the meal portions their parts bought her. But sometimes, as she was leaving, taking a last look before shutting a hatch behind her, she felt bad _for_ them.

It must’ve hurt, being so forgotten.

She rode away from the cargo ship with 15 pounds of salvage tied to her speeder and a gnawing in her stomach. _I’m not hungry._ The sun was just beginning to set, throwing streaks of purple and gold across Niima Outpost as she spied it between the dunes. _No point in being hungry._

“Three quarter portions,” Unkar Plutt grunted, pulling her salvage across the counter before she could say a word.

“That’s-”

He slammed the quarter portions onto the counter and glared at her. The person behind her in line muttered impatiently, shifting their bag.

She grabbed the portions and stalked off, trying to keep her hands from clenching.

She watched the last few minutes of the sunset, eating her too-small meal and leaning back against her AT-AT. Even after the sun was down, she waited. But there was nothing. No ships cutting across the sky, none coming or going.

Curled up on her pallet, she stared at the freshest mark on her wall. Another day alive. That was something to be proud of, here. But she didn’t want to be here.

She closed her eyes and imagined the ship that would come. Today it was silver, long and sleek, like a falling star frozen mid-flight. She didn’t know what they would look like. She had no faces or names to give them. There was just a feeling, and an outstretched hand. Every night as she fell asleep, she took it. It was warmth, and light, and _home_ , and in that instant, all her years here fell away behind her like a cast-off shadow.

She slept, and dreamed of that new beginning.


End file.
